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#or wick (witch dick)
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i think its probably for the best if we never get verbal confirmation in show that evelyn was a clawthorne and eda and lilith are descendants of caleb. there isn’t enough time to show the characters reacting to it. and if luz and the clawthornes do accept hunter as part of their family it should be because they think hes a good kid and care about him, not because they feel obligated to since he’s technically related to them.
but also i think it would be INCREDIBLY funny if belos accidentally lets slip that evelyn’s last name was clawthorne in the final battle and everyone puts the pieces together. then eda scoffs at belos and is like “damn, great-great-great-great-great-great grandpa could get it. why couldn’t you?” and belos explodes into goo from his sheer puritan-ness.
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bonefall · 2 years
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Does Riverclan eat roe or milt? I assume that if they see fish eggs on the river they leave them so they can grow into fish later but if they happen to catch a pregnant fish would they eat it? Also i found looking up 'weird foods' helps a LOT with coming up with cat foods since majority of it (unfortunately) is made of bugs, organs, or generally things humans think is gross but cats would Loovee. Also apparently you can make bone marrow into a sorta cheese or butter, the normal recipe uses plantains but would there be a substitute the clans could use?
I had a cookbook on preparing offal I looked at a lot, but I misplaced it.
Roe is DEFINITE. They will definitely be eating that-- fermented goldfish eggs are actually a delicacy in some places. If they catch a female who was full of eggs, that's a delicious bonus. She's dead by the time they figure out she's pregnant, it's too late for those eggs to get fertilized anyway.
Milt I'm less sure about including. Not because the Clan cats wouldn't happily eat that, but I don't even know where to begin on tagging it lmao. Same with other... sensitive male parts of various animals, especially the salmon from the autumn salmon run (another delicacy) and wild boars (bully sticks).
Plus, there's plenty of other things to cover without getting into that.
Like developed eggs, which you didn't mention! They would think it's a treat to snag bird eggs that are developed enough to be meaty, but not enough to have solid bones and annoying feathers. Even just finding big clusters of snake eggs would be a treat, especially since they'd be so easy to bring back to camp because of how they stick together.
Or frogspawn, and toadspawn. Toadspawn comes out in a big line. Forbidden Spaghetti.
As for bone marrow butter, someone actually mentioned that in replies once and I looked into it a bit, but it looks like a "cricket flour." Not ACTUALLY a substitute for butter, but added to butter to make it stretch further.
I haven't been able to find any actual recipes that fully substitute marrow for butter. Just, "1/4ths marrow 3/4ths butter" :/ Which sucks because it would be extremely helpful, since Clan cats don't have dairy products.
BUT they will be eating marrow, in any case. That's delicious. I'LL eat marrow. I'll suck it right out.
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theaceofarrows · 11 months
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Family movie night
Jason: The Wicked Witch of the West had EVERY right to light Dorothy's ass up-
Duke: Here we go again
Jason: You think you're going to kill MY sister and steal her heels, you hillbilly bitch? I don't think so
Tim: [throwing his hands up] This is why we don't invite you to movie night!
Jason: Oh, so it's my fault that you're not man enough to hear the truth?!
Dick: Guys, shut up. They're about to start singing Yellow Brick Road
Damian: Todd is correct. The Wicked Witch has every right to avenge her blood
Dick: [groans]
Tim: That's NOT the point-
Steph: Ooh~ Tim doesn't believe in avenging siblings
Duke: That's cold dude
Tim: What?!
Jason: [shaking his head at Tim] You spineless bitch
[Screaming match commences]
Bruce: [turns on subtitles] So nice to have the family all together
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courtingchaos · 10 months
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I’ve been thinking about eddie who’s in the early pre relationship stages with you. but in his mind he’s married to you he’s been pining after you for so long. he doesn’t want to scare you though so he’s pumping the breaks and trying to take things slow.
you’re spending the night at his and he’s managed to keep enough distance from you that he deems respectful in his courtship of you. but when he wakes it’s to your hand high on his thigh, and you’re out for the count. and he’s hard as a rock and needs to move you before you wake up and see what state he’s in.
not wanting to wake you and alert you to his issue he thinks on his feet and decides he has to become soft asap, then he can move you. then if you wake up it’s not going to be to him feeling like a complete pervert.
so he’s reciting his favourite passages from all of the books he’s read.
only it’s not doing much. the pretty girl in his bed is winning this round.
he starts reciting them backwards to increase the difficulty and hopefully distract the ache away. but in his ingenuity to up the anti he’s inadvertently made it so tough that he’s now whisper shouting the words out loud. waking you. eddie still hard as a rock reciting poetry in a wicked order that makes no sense to man nor beast, is stopped abruptly in his tracks, gasping at the feel of your palm squeezing the meat of his inner thigh. Mortified and yet. Still painfully erect with no hope of going down anytime soon
sorry to vomit this at you but it seemed like fate that you’d asked for a request (this is far too long and detailed I’m sorry) and I was thinking about this at the same time
1. Don’t apologize, you’ve struck gold. You have not dug too greedily nor too deep.
2. You’ve written this really well so I could just post this with a bunch of reactions under it but, if you’ll allow me to expand upon this.
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Picture this with me okay? He’s reciting Jabberwocky to himself. It’s a nonsense poem. He had an English teacher once give out a project for them to learn and recite a poem and of course he chose this. It has fun words in it like vorpal and borogoves. It’s become one of his bits actually when he’s trying to command a room.
“Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:”
Everyone will sigh. Jeff and Gareth and Frank will drop their heads onto their desks or over the backs of their chairs in long groans. Dustin still thinks it’s fun, he hasn’t gotten tired of it yet, and Mike likes it he just won’t admit it. Eddie loves it though, likes the way slithy toves slides off his tongue when he puts on that creaking voice he uses for warlocks durning games.
Now though he mumbles it to himself in the dark, his ludicrous attempt at bringing down his mood. Something had woken him at the witching hour, 3:07 shining a bright green from across his room. He wasn’t cold, his window shut against the chill earlier when you’d come over. He wasn’t overheated, quite content with you softly cuddled up next to him. No itch or ill folded sheet causing him discomfort. He had seven solid minutes of waking, a few he spared to revel in the heat of you lying next to him. To feel your shoulder lying on his as you pressed your face into his pillow. Your knee bent up and almost over his own and your hand planted firmly on his thigh.
Oh. That.
Those fingers he liked to twirl around his own and lick salt off of when you were done with your fries? Those fingers were under the hem of his boxers and a very much pressing into the meat of his thigh. You don’t move except to breathe but all he can focus on is that hand literal inches from his dick. The dick he’d kept in check for weeks now in the hopes he wouldn’t chase you away with the absolute need he felt. Kind of like right now where it lays heavy and hot against his thigh just like your hand.
So Jabberwocky it is.
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
But in the dark with a hard on, slithy toves makes him chuckle. Almost full on giggle and he slaps a hand over his mouth to keep himself quiet. Slithy toves sounds like a euphemism for pussy and he can’t help the huffs of laughter pushed through his nose. He looks down in the hopes that this has distracted his dick but apparently laughter makes him harder and he files that away to look into at a later date. Borogoves floats through his brain and he immediately thinks about giving your boobs a new nickname and he has to put a foot down for himself.
Next verse.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
Bandersnatch has to be a euphemism, there’s no goddamn way, it has the word snatch in it. He rolls his eyes and before he can sigh you shift beside him in your sleep, closer with your nose in his curls on his pillow and that soft hand he’s thought about when his own is too boring in the shower scoots another inch closer to the problem.
Maybe if he whispers it out loud?
“He took his vorpal sword in hand;-”
Absolutely not. Nope. New plan when he feels your sleeping breath across the front of his throat. It ghosts over his adams apple and all he can think about is your lips on his neck last week and how he’d pulled at his hair after you’d left just because it drove him insane.
Maybe if he recited it backwards it would confuse him enough all the blood would need to race back up into his brain.
“Outgrabe…raths…the-no…mome the and…” He’s squinting hard in the dark, reading invisible words on the ceiling in this new attempt to circumvent disaster.
“Borogoves…ha. Damn it. Borogoves…the were…mimsy all.” A headache is all this is giving him but for a moment he’s forgotten your hand and where it was. He’s searching the next line in his head and trying to jumble it so it isn’t so halting in the early morning quiet.
“Wabe the in gimble and gyer did!” He almost claps his hands when he makes it through without pause but he stops himself for fear of waking you up. Instead he spends 20 minutes working his way backwards through his poem, whispering to the night about the Jabberwock.
O frabjous day indeed when he realizes his dick is half soft now, not such a nuisance and a terror after he’s distracted himself. He thinks about waking you gently, a hand brushing your hair away from your face or running lightly over your leg but then you move. You move of your own accord and hook your leg over his. Kneecap bumping your hand higher and if he breathed wrong right this second you’d be brushing fingertips over his balls.
“And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,”
He mutters without whisper. It’s not full volume speaking but he really doesn’t want you to wake up and find him hard and awake with your hand shoved up his shorts. As much as he would really love to feel your hands on him like that he’s been trying his best to be gentlemanly. Only necking on your timetable when you steal him away to a quiet corner. A little over the pants stuff, heavy petting but you’ve never pushed it and it won’t make you uncomfortable, no matter what his dick wants him to do.
“Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!”
Eddie sighs. “Jesus Christ.”
“Hm?” You hum at him. A high note in the back of your throat that has him whipping his head to see you stirring. Adjusting to your side and dra-a-agging that hand. He doesn’t know what to do as you come around and blink up at him in the dark. He can see the edges of your expression from the light filtering in from outside, smooth brow and faint smile until it isn’t.
“Di’ yousay sumthin’?” Slurred against his shoulder where your mouth is pressed.
“Uh, kind of.”
“You okay?” You press up against him, your pelvis into his hip and he’s about to be caught. There’s no way you aren’t going to notice the outline in his boxers or the way he’s gotta be sweating gallons just in nerves.
“I…yeah?”
“What’s the ma-” You shift to prop yourself up so you can sleepily inspect him and he wants to subsequently die and sigh happily when your hand meets trouble. “Oh.”
Oh. Oh? Oh yeah, no big deal, it’s just his dick showing up to ruin the party like the world’s worst frat guy. “Look, I was trying to make it go away and I-“
“Why?” Having just woken up your voice is soft in a deep way. Scratchy from dry air but it fits the mussed hair and the rucked up t-shirt you have on. His gaze falls on the sliver of stomach that you’re showing off between the covers and he’s having a hard time coming up with an answer.
“Why?”
“Is there an echo in here?” You laugh and slide your palm over his stomach that tenses. “Yeah, why.” Your pinky catches the hem of his thin shirt and pulls it up to reveal his own section of underbelly. “We’re alone right?”
“Y-yeah.” It comes out like a hiss though because your nails scratch across that newly revealed skin and right over the trail of hairs below his belly button. “We don’t have to do anything.”
“I know.”
“I just don’t uh, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
Your fingers move back and forth over his stomach before you let them dip back down to the waistband of his boxers, fingertip seeking under the elastic ever so slightly. “You’ve been very patient Eddie.” The rings on your hand are body warm but hold a child to them when they glide over skin. “I think we just had a little misunderstanding at first though.” Fingers comb through wiry hairs on their search for their prize. “I’ve been trying to do this since you asked me out, but I thought you wanted to wait.”
“Oh my god, no. I mean yes, because I thought that’s what you wanted but I read into things too much sometimes bec-ause fuck.” He was running his mouth but then you’d grabbed him. Wrapped that dreamy hand around his cock and sighed into his cheek like you were the one experiencing earth shattering euphoria.
“Eddie I’ve wanted to do this for months.” A slow tug to the tip and you do something with your fingers that makes his mouth hang open in a silent plea. Another twist before you run your thumb over his slit and he grabs your wrist.
“This is gonna be over so quick if you keep that up.”
“Well that’s not so bad, I was still a little tired.” Highlights pick up the line of your lips and that sleepy smile that’s all for him. Heavy lashes flutter when he lets you go and shoves his shorts down to give you room to work. “You can get me back when we wake up.”
He throbs in your grasp at the promised idea of getting you back and all that entails. He can’t help himself but think of wet and warm places while your hand moves in languid strokes. Hot puffs of air across his chest where you lay your head to watch and then he’s watching you watching yourself and falling into a vortex of horniness. He wants to weave his fingers into your hair for some reason. Wants to feel the softness between his fingers while you rub velvet skin through your own.
“Eddie?” You pant into his shirt, lips catching and dragging on the cotton.
“Yeah?”
“What were you reciting?”
It almost pulls him out of his pleasure it’s jars him so. Briefly he thinks about lying and saying Shakespeare but you’re already giving him a 3 am handjob so he thinks he might not have to fib. “Jabberwocky.”
“Alice in Wonderland?” Your hand leaves his cock suddenly but he doesn’t get to whine about it before he’s whining about you licking your palm and getting back to work. He nods above you like you could see him but it earns him a chuckle from you and a stray few fingers that tug at his balls.
“God damnit yes.” He does push his hand into your hair then, the other fisting into the sheets beside him. You make a passing remark about reciting it then but he honestly might not even know his own name. The way his legs move restlessly against the bed and his fingers grip into your scalp. The damp slide of your palm over the head of his cock, the twisting motion you keep doing, it’s all rocketing him towards his finish. The burn of it in his belly clouding his senses and making him buck his hips up into your touch. The air of your breath keeps breezing over his overheated skin and your panting laughs are shoving him closer and closer until he’s squeezing his eyes shut and going stiff.
Warm lines splash up his stomach and he knows in a minute or two he’ll feel shame unmatched by man heretofore known but right now he couldn’t care. Soft hands drag him through the aftershocks while you make praiseworthy noises into his chest. You coo at him for a job well done and he can feel the heat rise on his cheeks. Sitting up again to look back at him your drag a finger through the mess he made and when you take three seconds to inspect it he doesn’t expect you to bring it to your lips.
“I-“ He what? What can he say while he watches you suck on your index finger like he does? When a slick grin hooks the corner of your mouth up into something devilish and he has an awakening at almost 4 am.
“How was that, huh? Glad we got that over with?” You drop your cheek to your shoulder to give him a smolder but Eddie needs to taste your lips after you’ve tasted him. It’s a need not a want so he rushes you, pushes you back into the bed and gets his mess everywhere but it doesn’t matter. He kisses you deep until you both have to come up for air and then he’s peppering your neck in them until your giggling is too much.
He uses his shirt to wipe himself off, promising a shower in the morning, and pulls both of you under the covers to conspire in the afterglow.
“Do you think reading that poem is gonna Pavlov you now?”
“How so?”
“I mean,” your laugh cuts into your explanation, “slithy toves kind of sounds like a name for-“
“Pussy! I know!” He laughs with you. “And Bandersnatch!”
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super-marvel-dc · 8 months
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Jason: *Recording while Y/N and Damian are arguing*
Y/N: HOLD UP, HOLD UP, HOLD UP, HOLD UP!! HER SISTER WAS A WITCH, RIGHT? AND WHAT WAS HER SISTER? A PRINCESS! THE WICKED WITCH OF THE EAST, BRO!
Dick: *Wheezes like a tea kettle*
Damian, pulling out a knife: I'm gonna stab them.
Y/N: YOU'RE GONNA LOOK AT ME AND YOU'RE GONNA TELL ME THAT I'M WRONG? AM I WRONG?
Damian: It's my favorite movi-
Y/N: SHE WORE A CROWN AND SHE CAME DOWN IN A BUBBLE, Damian!
Damian: I'm not fighting with you, I'm not fighting with y-
Y/N: GROW UP, BRO. GROW UP!
Tim: *Passed out on the couch though the whole interaction.*
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syrma-sensei · 1 year
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→ Hot Under The Helmet.
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gif credit
pairing: soldier boy/ben x wife!reader.
rating: explicit.
warning: ben's pov, horny and angry ben, dom/sub undertones, aggressive sex, piv, fingering, oral (female receiving), breeding kink, glove kink, eventual fluff, antiquated mentality...
word count: 2.2k
summary: fucking his wife is the best way to ease his mind.
taglist: @zepskies, @deansbbyx, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deans-spinster-witch, @homosexualferret...
→ masterlist | ao3
Soldier Boy didn't head back to his quarters in Vought's tower when the damned mission was over. He didn't want to spend another minute with his pathetic excuse of a fucking team nor did he want to be in the tower. He scoffed. A bunch of fucking clowns in a fucking circus. Sometimes he wondered if Vought picked them on purpose for the sake of insulting him and his legacy.
Instead, Soldier Boy made his way straight back home. He'd been on duty for a couple of weeks, accompanied with his teammates and other government soldiers as a backup to their mission — not that he needed either but protocols and marketing and Vought's bullshit.
Long story short, and as expected, The Twins fucked up, Noir tried to be the hero of the day, Swatto a fucking idiot, Mind Storm and Gunpowder fucking useless, Countess a fucking bitch. He had to handle it all by himself and fix everything his teammates dicked with. And he was pissed. Fuming. Raging. All he was seeing was red. And he could do nothing about it.
When Vought promised him a team to lead, he expected to have seasoned soldiers who knew how shit was done. Warriors who respected the missions and honoured their duty and privileged their country. Instead, he got fucking spoiled children to babysit. He wasn't in charge. The irony. His fucking helmet of forty years of dedication and service for this country granted him no say at the matter. It was fine, he'd tried to convince himself. He took it upon himself to train them and mould them into formidable soldiers like he was but to no avail. The fucking idiots thought the job was only to wave their hands and pose for fucking cameras at movie premieres!
Soldier Boy grumbled when he stepped inside one of his many properties. The one he shared with his wife. Their penthouse; their home. His pretty, little wife. He let a small smile slip into his lips when a mix of aromatic whiffs permeated his nostrils, his superhuman sense of smell enhanced the savoury scent. His stomach grumbled. Fuck did he really miss his wife's delicious cooking. Suddenly, his fury began to cease. Soldier Boy clicked his helmet off of his head absent-mindedly and set his shield aside before his lips quirked into a wicked grin.
It'd been a fucking fortnight since he saw her. Touched her. Fucked her. He was surrounded by dicks for far too long, and he craved pussy. Her pussy. He was consumed by the urge of destroying her cunt. And she'd love it. She'd always had. She liked it rough. She liked him ruining her, and leaving her unable to sit right for days. And she even dared to chide him when he went easy on her at the beginning of their relationship.
“I'm not fucking fragile, Ben. Don't you hold back.” She'd told him.
He smirked. She had no idea what he had in store for her tonight.
With many many years of experience under his belt, Soldier Boy stealthed his way to the kitchen where his wife was swaying her hips and humming a song as she bent over to check on the ribs she was roasting in the oven. Ben smiled proudly. He never let her do that job. The grilling. It was a man's job, the husband's job. So, to accommodate his wishes, she came up with this idea. To cook that kinda food in other ways. And being the expert cook she was, she did it extraordinarily.
His dulled eyes came to life with a lick of lust swirling within the green of his eyes when he traced the curve of her perfect ass. Fuck, his trousers began to feel too tight to his liking. Little did she know that she had a stirred brute standing behind her, waiting for the right moment to pounce on his prey.
Turning on her heels gracefully, a surprised gasp escaped her throat when her dilated eyes landed on her beloved husband. He was still in his supe gear except for his helmet and shield.
“Ben!” She trilled with a big smile, trying to balance herself from the surprise; he was hours early, “Welcome back, honey! Didn't think you'd be early—”
He cut her off with a burning kiss. Hungry and possessive. How he could cross the kitchen to her in such agility was still behind her. He smelled like earth and dust, blood and sweat. He smelled like a man should. Like a soldier should. Her core throbbed at his virile odour. His stubble grew bigger, and she liked how it brushed coarsely against her palms when she cupped his cheeks to kiss him back. She giggled against his mouth when his strong hands grasped her waist and lifted her up effortlessly and sat her at the countertop.
She clung to his neck, their kiss nourishing with vigour. His lips left hers temporarily to loosen her apron and toss it aside, then he removed her blouse and unclasped her bra. Ben crushed her lips again, his rough-padded hands kneading her tits, thumbs aggressively flicking her hardening nipples. His thumbnails grazing crescents on her darkening areolas. Ben's lips split mischievously when she let a wanton moan. His grin widened when the smell of her arousal reached his nose. Fuck. He loved it. He could already taste that on his tongue.
“Fuck, Ben!” She groaned when one of his hands trailed down to her shorts and slipped beneath her panties. He smirked when she instantly smeared his fingertips wet with her arousal. He let his gloves on; he knew she loved it when his gloved fingers fucked her relentlessly. She liked it when they were knuckles-deep inside of her, with the rims of his fingerless gloves grazing her clit. The little slut. She also liked when he fucked her in his supe suit. She took pleasure in submitting to his power. To him. He was a man worth submitting to after all, and he'd earned hers.
“Hmh, those fourteen days were rough on you, weren't they, baby girl?” He mocked, thick fingers spreading her folds open roughly. He loved to tease her and turn her into a mess. He relished in it.
She nodded hastily. It took a measured press of his thumb on her clit to turn her into putty in his hand. “Use your words, baby.”
“Y-Yes, Sir,” She whined, legs parting wider for him, “They were brutal.” She sobbed, burying her face in his powerful neck when he twisted his finger just right, her ankle snapped. He added another finger and she mewled.
“Ben, Ben! Sir, please!” She shrieked in delight, hands clutching at his gear. She gushed on his fingers and he fucked her through her high. He felt the tremble of legs. He was going to force another one from her. She should have asked for permission. She wasn't in control. He was.
She gasped when he didn't stop, “Ben, please don't—!” She squeezed her thighs shut, an attempt to cease the searing pleasure between her legs. His fingers were raw against her flesh. It brought tears to her eyes.
“Now you want me to stop?” He sneered with a drawl, curling a finger inside, her walls tightened in response. “Your pretty pussy doesn't.”
Her teeth sank into her lower lip, before she gazed up at him through half-hooded eyes, moaning, “Don't stop!”
Fuck, that shouldn't have surprised him. But it did. Fuck. She was really a slut. His pretty slut. She was practically inviting him to break her. Oh, he would. Deliciously so.
She squealed when he coaxed another orgasm from her. Begging him to fuck her more like a bitch in a heat.
“Holy fuck, baby, your pussy is squeezing my fingers tight!” He chuckled maliciously as he curled his knuckles again then pulled out.
With pearlescent tears adorning her eyes, she took his thumb into her mouth when he pressed it to her lips. Fuck, the way she twirled her tongue around his digit made him half-tempted to fuck her throat. He could do that later. Now, all he wanted was to fuck that needy, slutty pussy raw.
Ben shifted her up and flipped her on her stomach, her hot breasts squeezing against the cold marble. Shoving her shorts and panties down, he took in the sight of her ruined pussy. She was soaking, her arousal oozed from her opening down to her thighs in small rivulets. Unabashedly inviting him to feast on it. And how could he reject such an invitation? In a moment, he was on his knees, mouth wrapped around her slit, sipping from the sweet honey she had to offer. Seemed the act surprised her as she jerked in stupor with a squawk.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Her knuckles went white when she grabbed on the edges of the countertop as he ate her out like a man starved.
The new gruff hairs on his face burned deliciously against her skin as his tongue flicked assiduously against her swollen clit. He lapped her heat with a flattened tongue before invading her sensitive drawers, slurping her through the mess of her dew and his spit.
“Ben…I'm cumming again!” She tried to utter, but all that came out of her mouth was a broken whisper.
Smirking again, he unbridled the wonders his tongue could do, and she was undone again; his soddend beard was a proof of what he could do to her.
He licked her clean, and her overstimulated cunt shivered every time his tongue made contact with her flesh. She was trying to catch her breath up there, but he couldn't let her. He wasn't done with her yet. He had yet to be satisfied.
He heard her hum as she turned her face to make eye contact with him. A satiated look in her eyes as she smiled weakly at him.
“Ain't fair tho,” She croaked playfully.
He raised an eyebrow, “Hmm?”
Supporting herself with her arms, she managed to turn her body to face him, eyes immediately perching on the conspicuous bulge between his legs before her teeth dragged her lower lip inside her mouth.
“I'm naked, you're not.” Her hands trailed from his chest down to his zipper.
“Thought you liked me fucking you in this shit.” He drawled thickly as her nimble fingers undid his pants and freed his cock.
“God, you're so hard,” She giggled gleefully, “I do,” Her eyes flitted up to his face, “I like what kinda authority this suit holds. It's like fucking a god.”
His dick twitched painfully at her words. She was so good at this. He liked that about her. How she could tickle and caress his massive ego so easily. How good she made him feel so damn good about himself though he'd never admit that out loud. A god she wanted to fuck, then a god she would fuck.
His large hand roughly seized her jaws, her yelp was swallowed by his mouth. His dick was too eager to feel the warmth and wetness of her cunt as he plunged it inside of her.
“Oh, God!” She sang, her arms encircling his neck as he snapped his hips into her. Her hands fisted his short hair.
“No god, only me.” He groaned.
She cried his name as he bottomed out, he was fucking every ounce of anger out of his system on her. And she liked it. Her walls sucked him deeply, wanting more, and more he gave her.
He grumbled, “Gonna put a baby in you.” He wasn't asking. He was telling.
“Yes, Yes! Please make me a mommy!” Pride sprouted in his chest, and the immense feeling bolted down his spine and made his cock spring his load into her.
He didn't pull out right away, he waited for a few minutes. He didn't want his seed to spill out of her as much as appealing that would be to watch.
“You okay?” He asked her with concern.
“A bit thirsty, but I'm aces,” She blinked, sighing dreamily, “That was fucking sexy by the way.
He chuckled amusedly, reaching for the pot of water next to them and pouring her a glass, “The part you called me a god?”
She rolled her eyes as she gobbled down the water.
He arched his brow before whispering into her ear, “Roll your eyes at me like that again and I won't be letting you cum for a month.”
She choked on the water and he laughed deeply at her reddened face.
Suddenly, he became aware of the burning smell coming from the oven. She picked up on him sniffing and they looked at each other and say in unison, “The ribs!”
Her quiver didn't go unnoticed when he pulled out of her to let her check on the food cooking in the oven while he adjusted his clothes. He appreciated her nakedness in the kitchen, maybe he should ask her to wear nothing but an apron when she cooked. She'd look fucking sexy. His cock twitched at the idea.
His wife groaned in disappointment when she saw the ribs.
“Is it bad?” He asked, crouching next to her.
“It's way crispier than I intended.” A hand pressed to her forehead.
“I can handle crispier.”
“But, Ben, I wanted it to be perfect for you,” She whimpered and he smiled, “I know how much you like it.”
“Well, in your defence, happened when you were pretty busy serving me desserts before the main dish,” He winked.
She shook her head with a smile, “Y'know, you're surprisingly cheeky sometimes.”
“With you, I am.”
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flowershines · 7 months
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✰ REACTION: ENHYPEN MEMBERS AS SMUT QUOTES
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{warnings} ⇨ smut, mentions of sex
HEESEUNG:
“We tangle and merge. Love and let go. No one will ever know her like I do. I’ve touched every inch of skin. I’ve explored every part of her being. I love her shy when I pull her to my hips, my lap. I love her present uncertainty for things she knows how to do so fucking good. I love her pink flushed skin all over.”
“Little cum slut. You did so well. Now get on”
JAY:
“”I’m going to tear this sweet little cunt apart. I’m going to use it over and over again for my own needs,” he growls. “But I’m also going to make it feel good. Make it come on my tongue and my cock. Make it feel so good that you’ll never spend another day without begging for it. It’s what I’ve been dreaming of ever since I saw your picture in your book. My beautiful, put on this world just for me.”
“I’m gonna fuck you now. It’s gonna be fast and hard because I’ve waited too long for this, but we’ll go again right after, and then I’ll take it slow.”
JAKE:
“”Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asks. “Am I too rough?” I huff out an amused breath. “No.” He slowly pulls his cock out and turns me around before setting me down with my ass on the desk. Swallowing, I whisper, “You are just an overwhelming man. I never knew sex could feel this good. I’m not crying because I’m sad.” My voice skips. “I’m not crying because you’re hurting me. I’m crying because I’m… happy.””
“”Fuck. I knew you would like my cock. I fucking knew it, sweetheart. You’re taking me so well.” She takes me even deeper then, and I can feel the tip touch the back of her throat. “Christ,” I grit out. “So fucking deep. Just imagine how it would feel inside your tight little cunt.””
SUNGHOON:
“God, I love that tight fucking cunt. My little fuck hole, for me to tear apart and pump full of my cum. And you love that, don’t you? You like it when it drips out of you and I push it back in,” I tsk. “Dirty, dirty girl.””
“”Choke on a dick, asshole,” she spews. I bite my lip, but it does nothing to contain my dirty grin. “I’m not going to do that. But you will, baby. I’ll shove my cock so far inside that dainty little throat that you’ll be begging me to let you breathe. Maybe that’ll teach you not to run your pretty mouth like that.’”
SUNOO:
“”I thought about you every fucking night I lay alone in my bed, stroking my cock. Imagining pumping your sweet little pussy full of my cum. Or painting your pretty face with it, or those heavenly tits.” I curl my fingers inside of her and her eyes roll to the back of her head. “You even haunted my dreams. You put a spell on me like a wicked fucking witch, and fuck me, I’ve never felt more alive than when I’m being hexed by you.””
“”I want to fuck you like my personal whore. Then I want to pet you like a puppy and hold you warm against my chest. Treat you so soft and sweet, like a princess. You make me crazy, little brute. You make me feral and wild and insane. And I thought I already was all of those things. But it was nothing compared to when I met you.””
JUNGWON:
“”Fucking hell, you’re sweet. You’re so goddamn sweet, I just want to sink my teeth into every inch of you.””
“”I’m going to put my cock inside you now. I’ll let you adjust to it first, but after that, I’m going to fuck the absolute shit out of you like you’re my personal little harlot.””
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leoleolovesdc · 3 months
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I like to think kid Dick and Talia genuinely hated each other's guts but nowadays it's more of a playful thing? Like
Talia: *coming for a vist*
Dick: I see the wicked witch of the west has arrived
Talia: And the pantless bird hasn't moved out yet? I thought you'd have a job by now but it seems nepo babies never get a hand of those things
Dick: *throws a sword at her* sparring after dinner?
Talia: *catching it w/o a beat* yeah, sure
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thestuffedalligator · 2 months
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The rain was coming down like a giant was pissing on the city.
It was times like this that I wished I was human. Detectives love rain. They want the stuff to wash them away with the scum of the street.
I can’t stand water. Never touched the stuff.
My name is Ginger. Once upon a time I used to be the Gingerbread Man. Now I’m a private dick and I drink enough to be a rum cake.
It’s a hard job if you aren’t a tough cookie. I have all the requirements. I’m sugar and spice and a whole heaping of trouble.
I also got an umbrella I borrowed from the Wicked Witch of the West after a case last month. It helps on days like this.
The city was still sleeping like Snow White when I made my way to the crime scene. I turned into an alley and stepped into the remains of a pillow fight from hell. White feathers were scattered across the alley like a soggy snowfall. Blood mixed with rain and trickled down the cobblestones.
Gretel gave me a nod when I walked up. Gretel’s good people. She’s the only person I know who won’t try to eat me. “Thought you might want to see this, Ginger.”
“You’ve been stuffing pillows tonight, Gretel? It looks like Christmas in here.”
Gretel made a face and pointed a thumb to a lump under a tarp. “Then you just missed the Christmas dinner,” she said.
I took a look. There wasn’t much to see besides a greasy little pile of what you’d get if you ate a whole rotisserie chicken down to the bones.
The vic was Chicken Little. I knew the name. Little was a local nut who started a doomsday cult in the neighbourhood. I thought she’d be the kind of dame who’d get into trouble someday.
This wasn’t what I had in mind. Who’d want to whack a pamphlet thumper who thought the world was going to end anyways?
I picked up a rib. There were tiny scrapes scored across it in a line, like she’d been using it to count the days to oblivion.
I stared. “These are teeth marks, Gretel.”
I looked up. Gretel looked sick. That’s when I knew for sure.
“These are fox teeth, Gretel,” I said. “There’s a fox in the city.”
“Ginger, I think you should leave town.”
I flicked the rib back down into the pile of bones and pulled a stub of a candy cane cigar out of my trench coat pocket. “My brother has a house out in the country,” Gretel was saying. “He hates eating gingerbread as much as me. You’d be safe out there for a few days until we can track this fox down.”
I patted down my pockets for a light. Gretel took pity on me and knelt into the shade of the umbrella to light a match.
I puffed a few clouds of peppermint smoke. For a second it really was like Christmas in that alleyway.
I don’t care much for Christmas. Typically people look at me and think of dessert.
“Gretel, you’re good people,” I said. I didn’t realize that I hadn’t said it before. It felt like it had to be said. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Jesus Christ, Ginger, you know how your story ends.”
“Yeah, well. We're all trying to run, run, run as fast as we can from who you are.” I took one last drag and turned out of the alley towards the soggy city. For once, I wished the rain could wash me away. “But eventually it catches up to us.”
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euphoricfilter · 2 years
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im in LOVE w your yandere ddlg fics… can i request one w namjoon? 🫣🫣 i feel like he fits the ddlg concept so well ugh
𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦:
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pairing: yandere! namjoon x f. reader
genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || established relationship au ||
summary: if namjoon’s life were a book, he thinks the day his eyes set on you, it had been the start of a fairytale. where he is the prince, and you, his princess.
word count: 5.5k
tags/ warnings: disgusting amounts of fluff, buff bf namjoon, reader is definitely an ipad baby, she’s also very very spoiled, and very very shy, ddlg themes, non-sexual dom joon, descriptions of murder, a few references to literature, smut in the forms of: unprotected sex (this is fiction, don’t be stupid), dom! namjoon, sub! reader, he’s girthy, size kink, cockwarming, belly bulge, dick riding, female masturbation, fingering, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, lots of praise, and she’s a bit of a pillow princess, aftercare
notes: i agree!! he fits this concept so well!! and thank you for reading my other works babes! and here i present my last post of 2022! if there are mistakes, no there aren’t you didn’t see anything
request rules can be found here || my masterlist
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You were Namjoon’s fairytale dream. A distressed princess locked in the wicked witch’s tower— that was this corrupt world that the two of you lived in.
Him, your knight in shining armour, sweeping you off your feet and dressing you in pretty dresses and jewels just like a true princess.
Truthfully Namjoon liked the classics better, words articulated like poetry and feelings forever carved into paper with ink. Little pieces of each author weaved into each book they’d ever written, secrets between pages and fantasies hidden behind flowery words. Hours upon hours of knowledge stacked up in Namjoon’s mind, useless little things that no one had ever cared to ask him about.
Perhaps romance novels were his guilty pleasure. That sickly feeling you get, reading about two people so in love that you have to sit back and realise that your own life is nothing more than a slow burn. Where truly, you’re the side character that is left and forgotten, watching the people around you— the main cast of the story, fall in love and find their god-awful happiness that you can only dream of.
You see, Namjoon had learnt how patience was a virtue. He’d waited year and years for that love story, for the perfect, pure, unadulterated adoration for another human, like in all those romance novels.
Countless flings and unexplainable anger from all the women who had shattered his heart over and over again had led him to you. Had steered him towards the right path. Perhaps like the yellow brick road, him being Dorothy and you, Emerald City. His final destination.
You’d always been awfully shy. Something Namjoon completely adored about you. Something he knew you were a little insecure about; among other things.
His remedy to your doubt, fucking you until all you knew was his and your names. Fucked so dumb you could only cry, clinging onto him like he weren’t the wolf and you weren’t little red, pure white dove chomped and chewed in his jaws like Carol Ann Duffey had described— you locked in his claws as he ripped away at tattered old clothing.
Past relationships had ended on bad terms for you, similar to himself, because it seemed no one had ever taken the time to read into you properly. Hadn’t taken the time to map out your story on paper and analyze you; the perfect specimen, the apple of his eye, a goddess among humans and his pretty little princess.
So soft and so pretty. Something a little sick, twisted, in his mind that he’d been able to lock you away in a cage like a bird, delicate little wings snapped in two where escape was impossible; thoughts of a life without him nothing more than a breathy whisper in the wind.
“Which one do you want today, sweetheart?” Namjoon’s arm laces around your shoulder, tugging you closer into his side. Your Mary Janes tapping gently against the tile floor.
You peer into the display case, fingers tightly clasped around the sleeve of his hoodie; an anchor for your fraying feelings, anxiety creeping up your spine.
He doesn’t rush you, simply raising an eyebrow at the worker behind the counter who gets angsty at your thoughtful pondering. Line of customers slowly building behind the two of you; and Namjoon can hear a few impatient mutters.
“Strawberry, please” you fall back into his side, weight solely dependent on Namjoon holding you up.
Your boyfriend turns his attention back towards the barista, fingers carding through your hair.
“One americano, a hot chocolate and one of the strawberry cakes, thank you” he turns his attention back to you; watching as you rock and forth on your heels.
“Why don’t you go and pick a table out for us, darling?”
You hum, fingers tugging at his sleeve mindlessly once more before you’re scampering towards a table by the window.
Namjoon feels his cock twitch in his pants as you bend over the table slightly, collecting the discarded straw wrappers that had been left on the table; and he watches your skirt raise a little up your thighs, supple skin taunting him.
He doesn’t bother with whatever the barista tells him, pushing his card across the counter as he watches you; legs bouncing anxiously as you grip the hem of your shirt, finally taking a seat.
He waves at you as he waits at the end of the counter, the scent of freshly brewed coffee thick in the air and Namjoon worries about the impeding headache you’re sure to have.
“Here you go, pretty” he places the tray in the middle of the table, tutting when you go to grab your mug of hot chocolate. You simply fall back into your chair, eyes trained on Namjoon’s hand as he places your drink before you.
“Thank you” you smile up at him as he pulls out the chair beside you.
“You’re welcome” he coos, dragging your chair closer to his own, his neck craning to kiss your temple.
Your smile is shy though your attention is quickly snatched by his fingers that dig around the pocket of his hoodie.
He pushes his phone to your side of the table, hand laying heavy on the back of your neck as you pick it up.
“I’m gonna get a new high score” you tell your boyfriend, turning to give him a determined smile as your tap tap tile game loads.
“Yeah?” he asks, eye smile so pretty you get lost looking at him for a moment. Only snapping out of your own little reverie when he blows on your hot chocolate. “Drink up” he reminds you.
You nod, delicate fingers picking your mug up by the handle, and you watch as Namjoon brings his own coffee to his lips for a taste.
“Good?”
You nod, “Good”
Namjoon’s thumb continues to brush over the back of your neck as you hunch over the table, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you load up one of the songs of your game.
Your mouth falls open when Namjoon’s fingers dig into the back of your hair, tugging your head back.
He watches as your lips close around the forkful of cake he feeds you, endeared smile on his face as a little bit of the cream clings to the corners of your lips. You don’t seem to take much notice as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, eyes glued to the screen of his phone.
Your lips part after swallowing, tongue peeking out to lick at the pad of Namjoon’s thumb before he’s slipping it into your mouth.
“Yummy?” he asks, and you fall back into your chair— game suddenly long forgotten as Namjoon’s thumb lays heavy on your tongue.
You nod, fingers itching for the fork. Your boyfriend simply tuts, “Let me do that for you” his thumb slips out of your mouth, soon replaced with another large forkful of strawberries and cream.
✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯
Namjoon’s attention is quickly snatched from his laptop when he hears a gentle knock on the door of his home office.
You always seemed to count a few seconds before you opened the door, always mindful that he was often busy; even if he’d made it clear that he was never too busy for you.
“What’s wrong, darling?” he closes his laptop, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.
“You’re not in bed” you whisper, still lingering in the doorway. Frilly-socked feet shuffling anxiously against the carpet.
Namjoon thinks you look like a dream, eyes heavy with lingering sleep, thin strap of your silk nightdress slipping off your shoulder as you curl in on yourself. Always ever so shy, even after years together.
He’d taken his time pampering you that evening. An hour spent in the bath where’d he’d lathered your body in thick suds of soap, sweet smelling like roses that had sat in the summer sun all afternoon, skin warm like petals that had basked in the golden rays of light. Silent promises of a love that will last forever, until he takes his last breath, until the world ceases to exist and his love can longer be— traced under light fingertips that knew your body better than you ever would.
You squirmed as he’d rubbed lotion into every inch of skin your body had to offer— body his temple, your soul his goddess that he worshiped like you were his only purpose in life. Each breath he took, every step he’d continue to take, everything for you.
You’d laid spread across his lap as he’d worked any knots out of your back before dressing you up pretty for bed. Flimsy silk nightdress tickling your skin, brushing against bare thighs, where Namjoon’s hands had the freedom to roam your body until you’d been giggling at him to stop.
His favorite pastime, brushing your hair before bed; his hands those of Rumplestiltskin, each strand treated like intricately created golden thread, gentle as he tugs each knot until perfect.
He’d been there when you’d fallen asleep, bones jelly after he’d fingered you to an orgasm and mind nothing more than cotton candy softness as you’d tugged your precious little bunny to your chest. A gift he’d given you your first date together; and although you claimed you never had favorites , it was always his bunny that remained in your arms as you slept.
And truly he thought tonight he would finish up the last of the project he’d been given, the rest of the week yours; his time cupped in your hands to use however you pleased. The smile you were sure to give him each day after work, worth the pain of a single one nighter.
“I have some work to finish up, why don’t you go lay down, and I’ll be there in a little while” he tilts his head, gentle smile toying at the corners of his lips.
Your lips mould into a pout, “No” you shake your head, voice pulling out a little whiny “You have to come with me, Joonie. Right now”
“But I’m busy, darling” he coos, rolling his chair away from his desk. Legs falling open and he wonders how long it’ll take you to crawl into his lap.
He watches you thrown yourself to the floor, falling to your knees with a dull thump, and he worries they’ll bruise. You don’t seem to care, too pre-occupied with the start of your bubbling tantrum to care about any future injuries; you’ll be sure to milk all of your boyfriend’s sympathy when you he patches you up later. Crying until he’s kissing it all better, and maybe he’ll buy you a gift for being so brave.
He’d seen you scrolling through a few shops online earlier in the day before dinner, rosy-red blush painting your cheeks at a few items you’d hopefully saved.
You hiccup, stuffed bunny clung to your chest as you shake your head. “No, no” you sniffle, “You have to come now” your legs kick a little underneath you.
It was no secret that Namjoon liked to spoil you. Truthfully, he didn’t see the issue— what else was he supposed to do when housing a little princess? If you wanted something then who was he to say no?
Especially when you looked up at him through wet lashes, tears clinging to your cheeks like freshly fallen rain would the petal of a flower.
“Don’t cry” he frowns, heart clenching at the utter distraught on your face; cheeks glazed in saline tears and eyes watery, another miserable cry ready to slip past your lips. “Come here, my precious little baby”
The sob you let out is pitiful, bunny’s fluffy little paw held so tight in your hand as you push yourself to stand. Floppy ears soaking up your tears as you wipe your cheeks.
Namjoon’s hand’s curl under your thighs as you push yourself into his lap, a new wave of tears spilling down your cheeks.
“oh dolly” he croons, “You’ve been fussy all day, haven’t you? What’s wrong?”
Your arms wrap around his neck, face tucked tightly into his shoulder as you choke on another sob. Bunny tucked between your chests.
His thumb is gentle as it brushes over the top of your thighs.
“Tell me what happened” he rests his cheek against the top of your head, mean little smile pulling at his cheeks as your sobs fizzle to little hiccups.
“Work” you whisper, fingers threading into his hair, tugging rhythmically as you mouth at his neck.
“What happened at work?”
You whine, pushing your body flush against Namjoon’s. His hands wander, grabbing your ass as you rock forwards; bare pussy brushing over his pyjama pants.
“There’s a— there’s a new guy” your hips falter and Namjoon holds in a groan as your weight settles right over his cock.
Namjoon hums, “What about him?”
“He—“ a breathy moan drips off your tongue as his fingers dig into the meat of your ass.
“He what, darling? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong” he murmurs, fingers mean as he tugs your face away from his neck by the back of your hair.
Your mouth falls open, and Namjoon watches your eyes glaze over, though this time it’s not tears; and he wonders if you can see how ruined you look in the reflection of his glasses.
“Tell me” your thighs clenching at his tone.
You whimper, “He said a bad word, can’t say it”
Namjoon’s head tips backwards, “Go ahead and say it, baby. I won’t get mad”
“Promise?”
He smiles, endeared “Promise”
“He asked me on a date” your fingers grasp onto the neckline of his shirt, and your boyfriend hums, “I said no, because I have a boyfriend”
“And?”
He watches as your bottom lip quivers, breath hitching in your throat. “Said you didn’t need to know, could be a quick fuck in the back room”
Namjoon’s jaw ticks, “What’s his name?” his fingers skim over your jaw, your hips jutting forward. “Name, darling”
“Jimin” you breathe, “Told Nana, and she said she’d talk to him”
“Yeah?” Namjoon hums, “I’ll sort him out, okay?”
“Okay” you nod.
“Well done for telling me, darling” he smiles, an attempt to ease any lingering anxiety you had. The last thing he wanted was for you to hate work when you enjoyed it so much.
Your hips rut forwards, Namjoon pulling your nightdress up around your hips, watching as your bare cunt drags over his slowly hardening cock.
You lean forwards, lips brushing over Namjoon’s jaw as his hands guide your hips. You moan as the head of his cock brushes over your clit.
“Feel good, darling?” Namjoon’s breathing is heavy, one of his arms tucking under your thighs as he hoists you further up his chest, his free hand tugging his pants down.
Your hand travels between your bodies, tips of your fingers brushing over Namjoon’s slit, precum oozing out the tip as your hand runs down his length.
“Up you get” he helps you, head of his cock running through your slit as you roll your hips forwards.
You bite down on your bottom lip, watery whines bubbling up your throat with each nudge of your boyfriend’s cock running over your clit. Arousal seeps past your folds down Namjoon’s length.
You hold his cock against your cunt, Namjoon’s fingers digging into your hips, sure to leave bruises, but you didn’t seem to care all that much as your hips roll forward.
“Inside Joonie” you whine, tongue laving over the skin of his neck.
Namjoon takes a hold of the base of his cock, and you use his shoulders as leverage, chair wobbling under your joint weight as you line up his cockhead with your hole.
Your fingers run through your folds, wetness soaking your fingers as you circle your clit gently, Namjoon helping you as the tip of his cock brushes over your hole. And you let out an involuntary whine as the stimulation.
Your arms wrap around Namjoon’s neck, head of his cock splitting you open as you ease yourself down an inch before you’re pulling off slowly.
“Your pretty little pussy is so small” Namjoon groans. Flared cockhead pulling your pussy taught as you try and ease down lower.
You breath gets stuck in your throat, Namjoon’s fingers gently thumbing at your clit as you clench around his length. Slowly starting to stuff each agonizing inch into your cunt.
You whine as you reach the hilt, hips rutting forward messily. You moan at the lick of please that wracks through your body with each slow drag of Namjoon’s thick cock against your walls.
Namjoon pulls your face away from hiding by the back of your neck, tugging you until your lips mould into one, tongue pushed into your mouth, fresh minty toothpaste coating his tastebuds.
You start to bounce in his lap, childish impatience starting to take over as you chase after an orgasm. Always a little greedy when it came to your own pleasure, using Namjoon to get yourself off before you ever allow him to chase his own release.
“That’s it” he moans, unabashed in his arousal.
Namjoon uses his legs as an anchor, holding the two of you in place, ensuring the chair doesn’t tip over as the back of your thighs slap against the top of his own.
You moan as his thumb continues to brush over your clit, a ring of your arousal gathered at the base of his cock with each jittery raise of your hips.
“Doing so well for me” Namjoon groans, “Always such a good girl, yeah?”
“Mhmm” you nod, bunny tumbling to the floor. Long forgotten as you feel the precipice of your pleasure slowly boiling away in your stomach.
“Gonna cum for me?”
Your thighs shake at that, deep groan of pleasure shooting straight to your cunt as you continue to ride Namjoon like it were the last time.
“Go on, cum for me”
Namjoon’s hands find themselves perched under your ass, aiding you as your legs start to grow tired. Muscles in his arms bulging as he drags you up and down his length.
“So small, could use you as my own little fleshlight. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” he groans, mirth swimming in his eyes.
Meanly, Namjoon pinches your clit and that’s all it takes for searing hot pleasure to wash over your body, thighs shaking at your release.
You hiccup another sob at the burning arousal as Namjoon continues to ram his cock back up inside you, thick rivulets of your slick coating his balls as he chases his own release.
“Too much” you cry, hands wrapping around his wrists as his fingers dig into your hips.
“I’m close, hold on for me” Namjoon’s head tips back.
Namjoon can feel your pussy as it pulsates around his length; you let out something akin to a squeak as you feel his cock twitch.
Mouth falling open in a silent moan as his warm cum paints your insides white.
You raise up on shaky legs, tip of his cock left nestled between your walls before you’re falling back down on his length; cum pushed deep inside of you.
“Oh my baby” he coos, fingers gentle as they brush through your hair, “Sleepy?”
You nod, words fizzling out on your tongue as you yawn.
Your cunt continues to clench around his cock, even as you fall asleep on his chest.
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The bell above the door is obnoxious in announcing Namjoon’s arrival.
‘Pages of Love’ the little bookshop you worked at.
He would have gotten you to quit the shitty little job by now if it didn’t hold such significance in your relationship. He’d first met you here, had dates here, and it made you so happy that Namjoon couldn’t bare to see the sad pout that would be sure to form if he ever suggested you left this place behind.
“Namjoon” the old woman behind the counter smiles, waving him over. “I’m sure you’re aware but it’s y/n’s day off”
“Actually, Nana, I’m here for something else” he smiles, expression saddened and the old woman frowns.
“Anything” she nods.
“It’s about Jimin. He doesn’t happen to be working today, does he?”
“He’s on break right now.” She tuts, “Is this about what he said to y/n. I’ve already warned him about it”
“She came home upset” he shakes his head and Nana sighs.
“Poor girl. She’s lucky to have you, Namjoon”
“Thank you” his smile is genuine, though it drops the moment he steps out the door.
And he waits, waits weeks before he decided what he wants to do with the lowly piece of shit that dared suggest you cheat on him.
Waited weeks as he wrote down every sick little fantasy he had about the ways he’d maul his body. Shredding limbs, gutting him alive. Maybe he’d decapitate him and then send his head to his mother, or chop his filthy dick off and make him watch as he fed it to whatever animal is willing to chew on nearly nothing.
Written fantasies weren’t enough. Namjoon’s fingers always itching, always eager to finally wrap around the boy’s lithe throat and make him beg for mercy until his face is red and pride oozing out of his body with his fear.
“I’m gonna be home late tonight, little one” Namjoon tucks your hair behind your ear, gentle smile rivaling your frown.
“Why?” you ask, blinking up at him through your lashes.
“I have a small job I need to take care of”
“Can I help?”
“Nope” he leans down, soft feathery kiss pressed to you cheek before he’s pulling back, standing at full height.
You look up at him, “You can’t go”
“And why not?” he challenges.
“Because” your defense weak and truly Namjoon wishes he could stay.
“I charged your ipad this morning” and your eyes light up.
“Be quick, okay?” you push yourself up on your tippy toes, hands cupping his cheeks as you press a kiss to his lips.
“Promise” he smiles, “Now be a good girl, and don’t cause any trouble”
“I won’t” you wave him off.
✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯
Namjoon isn’t exactly sure what he expects to see when he finally gets home, a quick detour to Seokjin’s house to wash off Jimin’s blood and a change of clothes taking longer than he’d anticipated when his friend had insisted on making them both tea.
He can’t help the groan that bubbles up his throat at the sight of you. Skirt flipped up with three fingers, knuckle deep inside your pretty little pussy as you play a colour by number game on your ipad.
“Fucking hell, darling” he kicks his shoes off, jacket long forgotten on the floor as he crouches down in front of you.
You pull your slick covered fingers out of your cunt, gently circling your clit as you blink down at him.
“Couldn’t wait until I got home?”
“I got bored” you whine, legs falling open wider and Namjoon takes that as his invitation to run his thumb through your slit.
His hands hold your thighs in place as he leans down to press a kiss over your clit, tongue slipping from between his lips to lick over the bundle of nerves.
You hips stutter as his tongue drags across your folds, another wave of arousal seeping out your cunt at the unexpected nudge of his tongue against you hole.
Your fingers tangle into your boyfriend’s hair as he sucks over your clit, fingers teasing your entrance before he’s pushing two fingers inside of you.
“How pretty” he coos, accompanied by a wet squelch. “The prettiest little pussy, it’s a wonder how you fit anything inside of you”
You squirm, finger stuffed into your mouth as you try and hold back an embarrassed moan.
“Not little” you whine, hips chasing Namjoon’s fingers each time he pulls out.
“Oh, but you are” your thighs twitch as his warm breath brushes over your sensitive clit, hours of mindless toying with your cunt bringing you to the brink of an orgasm.
Namjoon kisses over your mound, kisses over your clit, and then kisses over his fingers as they curl up inside of you.
He can’t help the smile that pulls at his cheeks at the guttural moan you let out when he finds that particular spot inside of you.
“Cum for me, darling” his voice breathless, as he starts to scissor his fingers.
All it takes is one mean little nip to your clit and you’re tipping over the edge; legs shaking as they clamp around your boyfriend’s head.
His tongue continues to flick over your clit, fingers nestled deep within your walls as he helps you ride out your high.
“Enough” you whimper, tugging his head away from between your legs.
You squirm at the glossy sheen that covers Namjoon’s chin when he finally pulls away from your pussy.
“Well done” his hands run up and down your trembling thighs, “Think you can take a little more?”
Your eyes flicker down to his cock, heavy in his pants and you nod; tongue wetting your lips.
“My good girl”
Namjoon pulls you to lay across the length of the couch, fingers tugging your blouse over your head as you shuck off your skirt.
You tug messily at the back of your bra, and Namjoon smiles, bending down to help you.
He groans, taking one of your nipples into his mouth as he palms himself through his slacks.
“God, you’re so pretty”
Your squeak when he bites the plush skin, trail of kisses searing as he reaches your neck.
Your hands fumble with his pants, waistband pulled taught as your try and slip your fingers into his underwear.
“Always so impatient, aren’t you?” he coos, “here let me help you”
You pout at the loss of warmth, the loss of his large body completely covering your own; hands grabbing for neck when he sits up on his knees.
Your hips rock upwards, silently begging for any sort of stimulation as you watch Namjoon’s cock spring free, slapping against his stomach.
Your pussy gushes another wave of slick at the sight of your boyfriend with his hand wrapped around his cock, his hands always had been big; swallowing the girth of his cock when your fingers barely wrapped around it.
You can feel the phantom ache in your jaw, countless times he’d shoved his dick into your mouth, splitting it open like he would your cunt with absolutely no mercy.
“You’re staring” though there’s no embarrassment in his tone, eyebrow lifted cocky and lazy smile tugging at your lips.
“Inside, please” you whine, legs falling open enough for him to slot in place.
“Of course, sweetheart”
Your legs tremble in anticipation, eyes squeezing shut as he runs the head through the slit; slicking up his length before he’s pushing at your entrance.
“You sure you can fit me?” you can hear the laugh in his voice, retort on the tip of your tongue only he chooses that moment to nudge the tip of his cock over your clit.
“Joonie” you complain, “please, need you”
And Namjoon watches, lets you, grab onto his length, watching as you rut your hips down until he’s popping inside of you.
Your walls constrict around him, and he’s absolutely fascinated by how such a small pussy is even able to stretch around him.
“Good girl” and he can’t help the moan that follows.
He’s barely thrusting, gentle roll of his hips feeding each inch of his cock into your wet cunt.
You moan like he was ramming into you, always so sensitive, always so responsive to his touch.
“Feel good?” he asks when he finally bottoms out, thighs connected and heartbeats in sync. It’s moments like these Namjoon revels being alive, being one with you. Truly the closest you’ll ever be to one another; and he thinks he finally feels complete when lodged between your sodden walls.
“So deep” you whisper, fingers skimming over your stomach.
Namjoon pulls your legs over his shoulders, bending forwards until you’re almost folded in half.
Your moan is breathless when he gently pulls out, only to snap his hips back into you.
Your hands grasp onto the pillows of the couch as Namjoon picks up his pace, your tits bouncing, and cunt squelching with every brutal thrust into you.
“Fucking hell, you are tiny” Namjoon groans, and you whimper as his hand presses down on your lower stomach.
You dare take a look, hiccup of a moan ripped from your throat as you see it. An outline of his cock right bellow your belly button, head nudging the taught skin with each thrust into you, only for it to disappear as he pulls out.
Your fingers splay over it, cunt convulsing around his length as your feel him move under your skin.
You feel it rising, pussy swollen and worn from your previous orgasm. Namjoon seems to know, he always knows when you’re slowly climbing to the peak of high.
His fingers find clit, tight little circles sending jolts of pure, blissful pleasure through your body, another wave of arousal seeping out your cunt to soak his cock.
“Gonna cum for me?” he moans between eat thrust, “Be a good girl and cum for me”
The cry you let out is near pornographic, knees knocking against the side of Namjoon’s head as he continues to flick at your clit. Pleasure numbing that when you finally reach your high, your mind blanks, a blanket of fluff consuming you as Namjoon continues to jackhammer into your used cunt.
“Doing so well for me. So close. I’m so close” he groans, fingers finally pulling off your clit as your thighs continue to shake.
When you come to, Namjoon’s thrusts are a sloppy, thrusts barely coordinated as he ruts into you.
And your breath hitches at the final twitch of his cock, he pushes as far into you as he can before he’s cumming.
Thick waves of cum filling you up. He groans as you clench around him, walls still spasming from your own release. And he gently rocks into you, an attempt to push his cum as deep into your soiled cunt as possible.
“You did so well, darling” he swallows thickly, back of his hand wiping the sheen of sweat from his forehead.
You whine as he begins to pull out, mixture of both your releases dribbling out of your hole.
Your thighs twitch when Namjoon parts your lips, hole clenching around nothing as you push another wave of his cum out of your pussy. His fingers scoop it up, circling your entrance before he’s pushing them back between your walls.
“What do you think about a bath?” he hums, watching your eyes fall droopy.
You nod, hands blindly grabbing for your boyfriend to pick you up.
He smiles down at you, arms slipping beneath your body to pick you up as he wanders further into the house.
You wriggle around when he flips the light on, eyes stinging a little at the sudden burst of brightness.
“Alright missy” he sits you on the toilet, and you lean your head against his hip as pee, bones too floppy to even think of holding yourself up.
You remain sat on the toilet as he runs a bath, fussy when he picks you up again though it’s easily soothed with a gentle kiss to your lips.
He thinks you fall asleep as he washes your back, gentle as his soapy hands grope your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples and you squirm at that.
Namjoon is endeared when the two of you finally get out the bath, skin soft and sweet smelling, perfect for kisses. And he can’t help the laugh that bubbles up his throat when you kick your pyjamas away, refusing to put them on yourself when his hands were fully capable.
“Oh my little princess” he kisses both your cheeks, “How about some cake for being such a good girl?”
You see, Namjoon had always been a little bit of a liar. Had told so many lies that truly he didn’t know the what was real and what was not anymore. And if he didn’t know then you never would either.
Every little lie he’d told you from the start, every white lie, every left out detail of his life suddenly seemed insignificant when you were tucked under his chin, sleeping so peacefully, a true sleeping beauty.
And maybe he didn’t really like the classics. Maybe his real love of novels were romances, because he’d always be the prince and you’d always be his princess. A perfect fairytale that would always have a happy ending.
Because if anyone dared scribble out the pages, change his plot, then he would simply erase their existence, and the readers of his life would never know the difference.
You belonged to him. You are his as much as he is yours.
Your life his only reason. Your happiness that little spark of good that still resides inside him. And as long as you come home every day with that same pretty little smile on your face, then Namjoon feels no guilt for the countless people that lay dead, long forgotten by the world as they rest six feet under for daring bring you sadness. Because he’d erased them, with no way to wiggle their way back into the story of his life.
Because what was a prince if he couldn’t take care of a villain that would disturb his perfect fairytale ending?
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johnwickb1tsch · 7 months
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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 24 all chapters
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WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘
-It always takes you a little while to shake off the haze when you wake. However, this morning, you are instantly aware that you are being filled. You try to move, but unyielding arms tighten around you, holding you fast. “Good morning, beautiful,” John greets with the gravel of sleep in his throat, nuzzling at the shell of your ear with his nose.
Stuffed full with his morning wood, your pussy pulses around his thick, velvety hard flesh inside you. You make a sound, not sure if you are whining for mercy, or more.
“John…”
“I woke up to this sweet, wet little hole just begging for my cock,” he grumbles in your ear.
Yet, he does not move, and it is driving you mad.
Of course you went to bed wet, because your body has not been allowed any form of reprieve, no chance to regroup or recover. You feel like you’ve been living in this agony for ages.
You strain against him, hungry to feel him move inside you. To feel him do something besides just fill you quietly, taunting you with his glorious girth.
“Want to do something about it?” you grouse, trying to move your hips against him, but you don’t have the right leverage at all.
“Maybe.” He kisses the back of your neck, his lips like a brand upon your skin. “I feel like you pulled a trick on me last night.”
“Gave you a blowjob and put you to bed? Behold, my nefarious scheme…”
You feel the rumble of his laughter in his chest pressed against your back.  “Hmm. Little witch. Be still. I don’t think I’m ready to wake up yet. Want to stay like this for a while…”
The keening sound of frustration that escapes you is barely human.
“Unless there’s something you’d like to say to me? Otherwise, you can just…keep this warm.”
You breathe in through your nose, and out through your mouth, determined not to let him win. You lay very still….but there is no pretending there is not a big dick deep inside your weeping cunt. You whine again, and he kisses your neck this time.
“You know the magic words, kitten.”
Say you’re mine.
“Don’t you know torture yields unreliable intelligence?”
“Hmm. Not in my experience.” 
You pause as you realize he used to work for the Russian mafiya, and he probably really has pulled out someone's fingernails or some shit before. 
He reads the way you pause, sensing the change. 
“It was never really my forte,” he tries to explain away. “I didn't have the patience.” 
That, you almost believe. 
He remains still inside you, the seconds ticking away in heartbeats. Your body betrays you, just fucking refusing to settle down. He teases you until you could almost scream.
You squeeze your inner muscles as hard as you can, winning a strained groan from behind you. “Those are some fucking kegels you’ve got there, kid.”
“They feel even better if you move.”
“Hmm.”
His hand trails down, dipping into your curls, exploring your slit while avoiding your clit all the while. “So wet for me. I’d like to make you cum, kitten. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time.”
“Be my guest,” you grind out between gritted teeth.  
God, if he would just give you one hard touch on your clit you think you will explode. You are that turned on. You have never felt anything like this before, with anyone. And it’s not just that no one ever thought to treat you this way. It’s…him. You know it’s him, your feelings for him, your chemistry together that could burn down the world, if he would stop being so fucking weird about this mine thing.
Because you are not a thing to be owned. You are not a sofa, or a set of dishes. You belong to no one but yourself.
He does touch your clit then, just a feather light caress with the tip of his finger.
You do scream, and he swallows the sound with his mouth on yours. Suddenly you are flipped on your belly, your ass in the air with his cock buried inside you. He gives your round rear-end a smack that makes you jump. It doesn’t really hurt you, but it stings. Your reaction makes him groan, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise.  
“Do you know how many times I thought about ambushing you in the early morning in the coffee house, when it was still dark outside, and no one was there but you?” he asks as he withdraws, hovering so just his tip kisses your entrance. “I watched you fuss around behind the counter, listening to your music, oblivious to me. I fantasized about grabbing you up and ruining you on the countertop to the smell of the first pot of vanilla roast brewing.”
You blink, not sure where this is coming from at a time like this.
He was watching you. The whole time, he was watching. It should freak you out more than it does, but after everything that’s happened…the thought just inspires an uneasy warmth in to spread in your belly.
“I usually kept the doors locked before opening,” you offer weakly.
He snorts at that. “Wouldn’t have stopped me from getting to you.” He drives himself inside you, and you cannot help but flinch, your face shoved into the pillow. He is kinder with his next thrusts, but no less determined. “Cum with me, baby,” he demands again. “You’ve always been mine. Before you even knew it, you belonged to me.”
You want to. God, do you want to, but you’re not willing to pay this devil’s price for it. You are so grateful for the surge of anger that swells in your breast.
“You’re just a bully,” you snarl. “Maybe you’re bigger than me and meaner than me, and you can keep me here as long as you want, but that doesn’t mean you own me. I’m not a fucking coffee maker or a couch or a stereo. The only way you’ll ever truly own a piece of my heart is to have the courage to ask for it openly, with the freedom to let me stay or leave.”
He freezes, his cock buried inside you to the hilt, his fingertips digging into your hips. “Is there a chance in hell you would stay with me, after what you’ve seen?” After what I’ve done to you? hangs unsaid in the air.
Your pause is too long, and you know you fucked up by not answering him immediately. This would have been a great time to tell him a lie. You guess he’s conditioned you against it though. You’ll tell him the truth, even if it hurts you.
“That’s what I thought,” he snarls, and with three thrusts he finishes savagely inside you.
There is no snuggling afterwards. He leaves you cold and alone in the big bed, retreating to the bathroom with a slam of the door.
For the umpteenth time you think to yourself, you are so fucked.
_______________
20 points to your House if you spotted the Jane Eyre reference...🥰
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slashingdisneypasta · 23 days
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Captain Hook x AFAB!Fairy!Reader || Smexcerpt
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Plot: You thought convincing a witch to make you big as a human would soften your edges. Make you feel a little less.
But thats not the case. You still get so mad you cant see straight, you still get so sad you cant stop crying, and you still get so horny nothing else matters.
Warnings: Dub con themes. Fucking of convenience 😅 XD Context?? Nay... Also unedited.
It wasn't your fault that the only person with you when you started feeling this way was Captain Hook! If you had been close to mermaid lagoon, you would've happily engaged with a mermaid and not the cruel, wicked pirate you were most certainly not supposed to fraternise with. All the fairies were loyal to Peter, you all loved Peter dearly, and therefor all the fairies hated mean old Hook.
But when you got this way trying to sneak away from the pirates before they saw you, accidentally rubbing against a tree you were attempting to slip past, and let out that desperate, too-loud moan... and he heard you... and sent his men away so he could help the odd, human-sized fairy... you didn't have a choice! You had to use the cruel pirate Captain's convenient dick.
He only had to flash a beautiful wicked smirk at you, those burning eyes that looked like blood whenever he killed simmering right through you, before your shed your thin dress and bowled him over and onto the forest floor with your eagerness to release his cock from his belt and his pants and sit on it. You fumble with the belt, unfamiliar with the article, and you accidentally leave scratch marks with your sharp nails over his thighs as you pull down his trousers, but when you finally settle down onto his cock, taking him deeply inside your throbbing, drooling pussy you feel immediate relief. If only a little bit; not nearly enough to stop.
The Captain sighs, too, experiencing probably his first warm cunt since he was stranded at Neverland. A feeling you're sure the rotten old bastard coveted desperately all these years, seeing as how eager he was to be left alone with an insatiably horny fairy. You could see it when you closed your eyes and began to ride him; Him alone in his ships study pumping his cold and lonely cock with his eyes closed imagining if only there was a pretty girl in all of Neverland to sink into. The thought would bring you unfiltered joy, Captain Hook pathetic and needy, if you weren't already busy with pure, filthy lust.
The pretty sounds of ringing slip past your lips, the only language you know, as you fuck yourself on his thick cock. The sound like if someone took a bell and shook it like crazy filling up the clearing, along with the Captain's heavy breathing under you. He raises his torso and uses his good hand to hold himself up with his fingernails embedded in the earth under him while the arm with that dreadful hook wraps around your waist; holding you close and calling you magnificent in a breathless whisper.
He cum's a few times while you fuck him, getting hard again every time when you don't stop and don't let him up, instead keeping him in your vice-grip, drawing him dry. Its your one solace. He wanted to take advantage of your predicament; well he definitely got that.
When you finally cum your wings flutter extatically behind you, sending a cold gust of wind into the forest and blowing leaves up off the ground. You leave your shimmery grease all over the Captain's dick, thighs, and pelvis. With a flap of your wings you raise off of him, turn on him like he means nothing, and slip your dress back on over your body.
You're about to leave him in that clearing, sure that he hasn't moved, when you feel an arm wrap tightly around your waist and a body press tight to your back. A gasp rips from your throat, and you freeze- still.
You can feel warm breath on your neck when he mutters quietly to you; My dear, I don't know how you got to be this size. Cruel, fickle little creature... but don't think you're getting away.
We could be quite useful, to each other.
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keeksandgigz · 9 months
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hiii keeks! saw that we could share our thoughts about witchy and eddie soo i wanted to share that i’ve been thinking all day about eddie making witchy squirt with the rose quartz dildo lolololol🫠
goddamn y’all love that rose quartz dildo down omg 🫣
this can be read as a pt. 2 for this post
this is for @reidsbtch specifically cause that was her idea 🤭
this is strictly 18+ minors DNI please
“Witchy, can I ask you a question?” he says out of nowhere, as you’re reading your book on the couch. Your head lifts, and you can sense the wicked twinkle in his eyes.
“What is it?” you ask, closing the book you weren’t really reading, just using it as a cover up to ogle at your boyfriend while he played guitar next to you.
“Y’know how you complained about the dildo I got you not being uhhh” his cheeks tinge pink, as he looks into an indiscernible place on your living room wall, like the answer was going to be on the pink wallpaper of your house.
“Big enough?” you finish the sentence for him, he purses his lips and nods.
“Why didn’t you use your magic to make it bigger, or uh- curved or something?” he asks, a frog trapped in his throat as he everything he says comes out like a half- croak, maybe a side effect of when he turned himself into a frog on accident.
“Oh, no I did. I just made it look like your dick” you say, a shrug of your shoulders makes the purple shawl you were wearing fall off of them, nonchalant, like you were telling him your grocery list.
Eddie’s eyes bug out of his sockets at that. The thought of you using a dildo shaped like his dick? He nearly bursts in his pants at that.
“You uh- uh you what?” he stammers, a crimson red tinges his pale cheeks, blinking quickly at his goddess of a girlfriend who just so happens to be an actual witch and his dream come true? He really is so, so lucky.
“Yeah, I just- y’know did my magic thing” you say, a dramatic movement of your hands follow it “Do you know wanna see it?”
He blinks at you, slowly “Do I wanna- Do I- Fuck, witchy of course I wanna fucking see it” he mumbles, as you stand up, guiding him to your room.
You open the mahogany dresser in front of your bed, rummaging through piles of silk and wool, taking out what seems to be Eddie’s dick in crystal form. Veins and everything.
“Holy shit, witchy, you’re a fucking freak. Jesus Christ” he hisses, feeling his cock stir under his zipper, fighting the urge to toss you on the bed and use it on you.
“Have- have you used it yet?” he breathes, his hands finding purchase in his pockets, fighting himself from acting upon all the dirty thoughts he’s been currently having.
“Oh, I was waiting to use it with you” you say as you throw yourself onto the bed, blushing slightly at the darkened stare your boyfriend gives you, hair fanned out around your head and spreading you legs for him.
“Fuck, witchy, you can’t say shit like that” he rubs a hand over his eyes as he inches towards you. You blink up at him, bottom lip caught in between your teeth.
His hands run up your legs, bunching your long skirt up your calves, then your knees, then your thighs.
“Are you gonna use it on me, Eddie?” you mumble against the skin of his cheek, breath already heaving at the feeling of his calloused hands on your skin, creeping up the inside of your thigh.
“Witchy, God, you have no idea what i’m gonna do to you” he whispers as he undoes the buttons of your shirt, kissing your arm up to your wrist.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby. I’m the only one who can bring you to your knees, am I right?” he bites down on your neck and you let out a weak “yes” as you arch into him.
“You don’t have to be so strong and powerful all the time, huh? Are you gonna let me take care of you?” he asks, hands hooking on the sides of your panties, sliding them off your legs.
You squirm under him, handing him the rose quartz.
“You get so fucking wet, witchy, and I barely did anything” he snickers, kneeling at the foot of the bed, nestling himself between your legs.
He probes your entrance with the crystal, as you whimper under him, with the cold surface coming into contact with the heat radiating in between your legs.
“Put it in, please” you whine, arching your hips into him.
“Such good manners, witchy” he smiles wickedly at you, letting the toy enter you. A loud moan you’ve been holding in your throat escapes you as he pumps the quartz in and out of you.
“Big stretch, baby, huh?” his cocky smirk is the only thing you can see in the dark room.
“Yes, so- so big” you pant out as he reaches a hand on your stomach to feel the quartz go in and out of you, slightly putting pressure there as he drives himself forward, tongue darting out to lick at our clit.
An animalistic noise falls out of you as you begin to grind yourself on him.
“You’re so dirty, witchy. Using your magic for something so, so, filthy? What would your coven say, hm?” he proceeds to give you another lick, making you jolt in pleasure.
“Would they say how much of a slut you are, my lovely witchy? Because no matter how much you try to hide it, you really are just a witchy slut” he drives the crystal in further, making you wail in pleasure.
“God, Eddie- fuck” you thrash on your mattress “right there, there there there” a chant falling out of your lips, his head between your thighs as he keeps on drawing moans and wails from you, it’s never felt this good before.
The coil feels weird in your tummy, like a pooling sensation that is making its way down, down, down. You fist and paw at your sheets and at Eddie’s hair as you search for purchase somewhere, anywhere.
His tongue keeps lapping at you, humming and slurping sounds filling the room as he keeps driving the crystal in.
“Ed-Ed I feel- mmm weird” you stutter, almost unable to get the sentence out along moans and whines.
“C’mon, witchy. You close?” he asks, placing a kiss on the seam of your thigh.
“huh ‘mclose” you mumble, as you let yourself be taken over by the overwhelming pleasure washing over you.
“You gonna cum f’me? Go on, baby, let go, I got you” he mumbles against the skin of your tummy as the coil in your tummy violently snaps, and your vision goes white. Eddie lets himself be soaked. Hair, face, arms, shirt, nothing is saved.
It takes you a couple minutes to come back to him, seeing white spots. You feel the wetness of the sheets under you and gasp.
“It’s alright, witchy, I gotcha. That was really hot, baby” he mumbles, scooping you in his arms, as you tremble from the aftershocks.
“I uh- I didn’t know I could do that” you mumble.
“Witchy, I think you’re magical” he whispers, putting his nose to yours, making you chuckle.
You try to stand up, but he won’t let you.
“No, witchy. Stay here, I’ll run you a milk bath and while you do that I’ll wash your sheets, sounds good?” he asks, kissing the tip of your nose.
You just hum, as he lays you down and disappears into the bathroom.
Your body really does love him.
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transbian-mailbomber · 8 months
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this bet was too easy you had thought, just drink one potion. you trusted the witch you made the bet with, being a regular at her shop, she had always been sly but her potions were magnificent! ‘i bet a thousand gold you couldn’t just drink one’ she had said, and you foolishly accepted. not even considering the aftermath of losing…
now you were downing your third. your head felt woozy but your whole body tingled slightly, everything felt more sensitive, but it felt so good… the witch cackles beside you, placing her hand firmly on your thigh. shivers shoot up your spine and you can immediately feel your body getting hot. she pulls you to the backroom, and you manage to glimpse the label of a similar looking potion:
Overstim Potion HIGHLY POTENT
the witch shoves you on a bed, quickly undressing herself as you begin to catch up on what’s happening. but it’s too late, you’re already caught in her trap, plus you’re soaking your panties with pre-cum, what’s the worst that could happen?
she rips off your clothes and flips you on your stomach, pressing the tip of her magical cock against your ass. you moan and squirm, you want her cock, you need it in you right now! your body seems to beg for it. she pushes it in, your legs shake as you orgasm immediately, a wicked smile stretches across the witch’s face. without hesitation she yanks your hair back and starts fucking you senseless, you cum again, and again, you can’t stop cumming actually. a wet spot forms under you as you soak the bed in your fluids. but it doesn’t matter to her, in fact she enjoys watching as tears begin rolling down your cheeks from the pain of being forced to cum over and over, and she loves the blank expression on your face as drool pools beside your mouth. your body is on fire, the pleasure overrunning any other emotion as the witch uses you as her personal fucktoy. she buries her dick in your useless hole, filling you with cum, and then continuing to ruthlessly fuck you. soon everything starts fading in and out, and it all turns into a blur, you vaguely remember her pulling out and finishing on your limp, twitching body, looking at you as if you were just a piece of art she had just cultivated in a matter of minutes. another useless toy to be used. and you loved it, maybe being her fucktoy wasn’t so bad after all. maybe, you could stay… just a little longer…
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lostcontrolfreak · 11 months
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Round the cauldron, witches, run; Conjuring for wicked fun. Boys that of this potion drink Soon shall feel their egos shrink. Speak the secret names of plants That will make them wet their pants.
Double, double bladder trouble; Full to bursting like a bubble.
Owlet’s wing and lizard’s tail: Twist man’s word to baby’s wail. Eye of newt and toe of frog: Make him cower as a dog When he meets a witch’s power At any season, any hour. Blind-worm’s sting and tongue of adder Weaken well the drinker’s bladder.
Double, double bladder trouble; Full to bursting like a bubble.
Make the potion sweet and thick To wield control o’er any dick. Fill its owner’s eyes with dew By mixing in the slips of yew Silver’d in the moon’s eclipse. Close his eyes and purse his lips And force the gentleman to dance, Struggling not to wet his pants. With tooth of wolf and dragon’s scale Make it known he’s bound to fail. Infuse and stir and chop and muddle Then choose the man who’ll make the puddle.
Double, double bladder trouble; Full to bursting like a bubble.
And when the potion draws his tears, The drinker meets the coven’s cheers.
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amorgansgal · 3 months
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Practice Makes Perfect
So here we go! At long last, I've finished my fic and I loved writing this one so much! Just to ensure absolute clarity I'm kind of seeing the academy as a university, so everyone here is over the age of 20 and somehow I've pegged Gale as a complete slut evidently!
Gale x Fat Female Reader
CW: Sexual content, Oral sex
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‘I really don’t think this is a good idea,’ you desperately whisper to your friend, Nira, who is dragging you through the mahogany panelled library where absurdly high bookshelves tower above you both.
The library is quieter in the late afternoons and evenings, there are only a few students either absorbed in the small mountains of books that surround them or are busily writing out long essays, the familiar, comforting sound of turning pages and the scratch of pen against paper fills the large room. As you pass the candlesticks the wicks catch alight, now that the room is getting gloomier and the sky is darkening. The sun is sinking low in the sky, casting the last rays of golden light to be dispersed through the diamond patterned windows. The dark wooden floorboard underneath your feet glitters with the thrumming magic that spills from the books in the room and the stunning reds, golds and oranges of the last light of the day.
‘Don’t be such a wet blanket,’ Nira hisses in response. ‘Besides, I thought you were interested.’
‘I am,’ you insist, though a hot blush still creeps up your cheeks. ‘But I don’t want to be mocked or for him to judge me.’
‘He’s not going to judge you. From what I heard he quite likes…’ she hesitates, pursing her lips as though wanting to find the right way of putting it.
‘Fat women?’ you prompt.
She sighs. ‘I was going to say ladies with larger thighs, but sure, fat women.’
‘You promise me, he won’t laugh or-’
‘He’s not going to laugh and if he does I’ll fireball him right in his face.’
You bite back a laugh at the thought and Nira grins at you, then continues, ‘Besides, I’ve had the joy of experiencing Gale’s tongue and it’s well worth it. Honestly, I wish he was interested in properly dating someone, because I’d throw my hat in the ring, so many men act like the whole thing is disgusting. Oh but we’re expected to suck them off whenever, even if their dicks stink like piss!’
You smile, it’s been a complaint of Nira ever since she got to experience Gale’s tongue and you’ve heard all about his ability non-stop since. Most of the girls in your class have talked about it. You’re surprised they’re not jealous of one another or are trying to win him over, but he apparently doesn’t seem to care about entering a serious relationship and is just happy to oblige his classmates’ desires. You had your concerns though that he would not be interested in you. You’d always been on the larger size, your mother certainly didn’t help matters by pointedly making remarks about how most people associated female magic users with beautiful, ethereal waif like creatures. No one thought of dumpy little witches unless they were old and ugly. You did your best to shrug off comments like that but it still stung and you felt like you had to work twice as hard as your classmates just to be given any forethought or attention from either your peers or your teachers.
Gale, when you had occasion to work with him, was refreshingly respectful, kind and seemed to actually see you. You’d grown almost accustomed to any man’s gaze immediately drifting past you and onto your thinner friends. If it didn’t happen so often you might have even been angry about it, but you didn’t really see the point. So consequently your experience with men was rather limited. You’d been kissed, sure, but it was such a fumbling, innocent mess of a kiss you weren’t quite sure whether to count it. You’d touch yourself but you always felt a bit embarrassed about it and sometimes your own self-doubts would turn you off. So it was usually a rushed affair and didn’t quite leave you fully satisfied.
‘Ah, there you are,’ Nira says as you reach the end of the library where instead of desks and rigid back chairs there are soft, plush sofas nestled in alcoves and you see Gale look up at your approach. He gives you both a warm smile and you immediately feel that this whole thing is a horrible, terrible idea. Your feet slow and Nira is practically dragging you over. Your heart is thudding in your chest, the blood rushing in your ears, and it feels like your throat is about to close up. Gale is handsome. He has foppish brown hair that tickles the back of his neck. His eyes are a warm, deep brown. His easy going smile is inviting. And you feel all your weight, the soft plumpness of your belly, your thighs catching slightly on chairs and tables as you walk over. He is going to say no, he is going to look at you like you are disgusting and repulsive and how could you even think he would want to give you pleasure?
‘Good afternoon, Nira,’ he says and inclines his head in greeting. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’
‘Well, it’s not so much pleasure you owe me!’ Nira says with a grin and tosses her head at you. ‘You remember Y/N, right?’
‘Of course, I still am very resentful you soundly beat me in my alchemy test!’’ he says, though there’s no malice in the tone as his smile widens and his eyes glimmer with mischief. 
‘Well, she’s heard what you like to do.’
Gale laughs, and for a moment your heart seizes in terror. ‘Really? Am I getting that kind of reputation?’ he asks, though you can see he’s quite proud of such a reputation.
Nira rolls her eyes. ‘Oh come off it Gale, you’ve practically had every girl in the classroom that way and we all talk about it!’
His eyes flick back to you and a shiver runs down your spine. The pupils in his eyes have widened and you’re quite certain it has nothing to do with the gloom of the library. He wets his lips and you’re almost scared of the way he’s looking at you… he’s looking at you with desire and your silly heart doesn’t quite know what to make of it. But then he clears his throat and gives you another sweet, winning smile.
‘And I take it you’re interested in allowing me to practise? Because if you’re not and Nira has just dragged you here when you don’t like the idea, then please don’t be bullied into it. I’m very happy to have a chance to work on my technique, but I don’t like the idea of someone being less than enthusiastic,’ he says and his gaze is entirely focused on you, and you almost don’t want to look at him because it’s so startling being treated like an object of desire. But you manage to keep your head raised and your eyes fixed on him.
‘Yes, I do… I am interested,’ you say. ‘If you’re… um… interested in me, you don’t have to if it would prove distasteful.’
That same wicked, mischievous gleam is back and he draws closer to you. ‘I am interested and I assure you, it never proves distasteful, quite the contrary in fact.’
‘Gods, should I just turn my back or are you going to wait until you’ve gone somewhere more private?’ Nira asks and you flush at her words, though Gale lets out another burst of laughter.
‘I would assume my room would be preferable,’ he says to you. ‘Though Lucia and I did make use of that corner over there,’ he gestures to a table tucked into a corner by a bookshelf and you inhale quickly, imagining your hands holding tightly onto the shelves, your butt on the table and Gale’s head between your thighs. You bite you lip and press your legs together, there is no denying the desire that courses through you at the thought of the risk that would be, the possibility of being caught, though you would find it mortifying. It’s better to not get ahead of yourself and you nod.
‘I would prefer the privacy of your room,’ you say, and Gale offers his hand to you. It takes you a moment for you to take it, but he gives your fingers a gentle squeeze and then puts the book he was holding back on the shelf. 
‘I assume we should go there now, unless you have prior plans,’ he says to you. Were it any other man you would have assumed he might be trying to put you off, but it sounds like he genuinely cares about whether or not you’re busy.
‘No, no, we can go there now,’ you say, then glance away because of how embarrassingly eager you sound.
‘Good,’ Gale says and takes hold of your hand more firmly. Nira catches your eye and smiles as he begins to walk by her.
‘Have fun!’ she says.
‘See you later, Nira,’ Gale says to her, you only manage a nod as you feel rather tongue tied.
***
Gale’s room is definitely cleaner than some of the guys’ rooms you had seen within the dormitory rooms of Blackstaff Academy. Oh, there’s robes tossed over chairs, the desk is littered with books, papers, quills, an open box of herbs and crystals and sublimates. But there’s no forgotten plates or dirty cups. Gale’s room actually smells quite good too, a faint hint of bergamot and cedar. He pulls out the chair in front of the desk and turns it around to face the bed, then gestures for you to sit in the chair. You sit down, nervously placing your hands in front of your belly, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Gale closes the bedroom door, then sits down on the bed opposite you.
‘So, now that Nira isn’t around, you definitely want to do this? He asks.
You nod, your throat feels very dry and tight. Gale smiles at you softly. ‘Just want to check, as I say, don’t want to do this with anyone who has doubts. I’d like to ask you a few things first.’
You nod again and curse yourself for losing all sense of any wit or wisdom you once had in your brain! But Gale is relaxed and begins work on removing his boots. ‘First, easy one, do you want me to lock the door or just have it closed. I’m sure you know I have a tressym and she comes and goes as she pleases, and while she’s respectful and polite, I don’t put it past some of our classmates not to barge in!’
You think about it carefully, then say, ‘Lock the door please.’
He casts arcane lock on the door and then grins at you, you can’t help smiling back. ‘And you know knock, so you want to get out you’re free to go whenever you want,’ he says, the implication runs underneath, you’re in control, what you say goes, if you don’t like it you can go and there won’t be any hurt feelings. You feel rather touched he’s going to all this effort.
‘Next question, would you prefer to be partially clothed or entirely naked? When I do this I do quite enjoy touching my partner everywhere, but your comfort is more important than what I find enjoyable,’ Gale says.
You look away, you still feel self-conscious about your belly and you can’t imagine Gale would want to touch the soft, fleshy weight of it, let alone even see it! ‘I’ll keep my blouse on, if that’s alright,’ you mutter.
His two fingers catch under your chin and he lifts your head. ‘It’s fine by me, but it’s more important that it’s what you find alright, your comfort comes first. Now, biggest and hardest question,’ he says, smiling. ‘Can I kiss you or would you rather I didn’t and just work my magic between your legs?’
‘Yes,’ you whisper, your eyes are captured entirely by his and your voice sounds faint. ‘You can kiss me.’
His hand slips down your cheek, lightly resting against your neck, his fingers curve round your head and he pulls you forward. His mouth finds yours and he kisses you sweetly at first, tentative, gentle, as though he is worried you might flinch away, but nothing could be further from the truth. Your heart hammers in your chest and you feel like you might forget to breathe. Your hand hesitantly goes to his chest, you don’t want to push your luck, but he instead presses his free hand over yours and you can feel the warmth of him bleeding through his shirt. He lets out a groan and then pulls away from you, breathing hard and certainly wearing an expression of wanting to eat you up. 
‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘If I’m not careful I’ll get carried away!’
You wonder what ‘carried away’ might entail, given what you’re about to do. But you don’t have much time to think about it, he helps you up from the chair and unties the laces of your skirt. He tugs it down over your hips and you watch him bite his lip when your thighs come into view, he’s utterly focused on your legs and his hand reaches out eagerly, but he seems to collect himself to not just grab a meaty handful. Gale gently strokes down your thigh and guides you to the bed, grabbing the pillows and putting them behind your back. He removes the slippers that had been on your feet, tossing them off into a corner of the room and seems to admire the stockings you wear, though they aren’t particularly sexy you think, just the fairly standard academy uniform ones. Once you’re comfortable, he returns to looking at your legs, he traces his fingers up from your ankles to just behind your knees, making you shiver. You still feel a bit embarrassed about Gale seeing you like this, of opening your legs so he can see all of you.
Gale catches your eye and smiles. He leans down and kisses you, that same sweet, soft kiss. ‘You alright?’ he whispers.
‘Mmhm,’ you manage, well at least you made a sound this time. Gale chuckles quietly.
‘You look so beautiful,’ he says, then trails kisses down your mouth, your jaw and neck, nipping at your ear and making you gasp as the hot little jolt of pleasure soars through you. You decide to ignore that him saying you’re beautiful is probably both something he says to all the girls who come to him for this and also definitely a lie in your case.
He scoots down the bed and slowly pulls apart your legs, his stare is so intense you have to close your eyes. His fingers skim up your legs, his nails stroke down your thighs, until they reach the crease between them and your mound. 
‘Hmm pretty,’ he says, and he pulls his right hand away for a moment. You open your eyes to see him with his thumb in his mouth that he pulls out with a pop and then he places it against your clit and circles it. The sensation makes you gasp and arch up, though you still cover your belly with your arm. Gale lets out another tight groan and suddenly lies down between your legs, his fingers still play with your clit, feather-light touches sliding down to your entrance and teasing it, then going back up making you bite your lip hard to not let out a sound.
‘You can make as much noise as you like, in fact I’d rather you do,’ he says, then brings one of your thighs over his shoulder. Your eyes flicker open as he presses kisses against it. He nips at the sensitive skin, a playful, teasing bite. ‘It tells me if I’m doing a good job.’
He keeps kissing down your thigh and suddenly he’s at the apex, his hungry dark eyes watching you intently, you can feel his breath on your nether regions, your belly feels tight and it’s all you can do to both stay on the bed exactly where you are or beg him to relieve you of the growing ache and need for something. He gives you one quick, delicious smile and then buries himself between your thighs. You don’t know what to expect, but his warm tongue darting out, circling your clit and then more firmly suckling it makes you feel like a hot jolt of electricity zapped through your body. The pleasure is mind melting and Gale is all to happy to apparently drown in you, his mouth and lips and tongue… You forget yourself, forget all your shame, the hatred of your body, the disgust you feel with yourself, and surrender yourself utterly to pleasure. 
He’s good, too good. He seems to cotton on quickly to what you like, how best to draw out every bit of pleasure, everything that makes your toes curl, that tighten the muscles in your thighs, that makes you instinctively grasp a handful of his brown hair between your hands and he keeps bringing you to the peak of pleasure over and over, until you see stars in your eyes and feel so lost to it all, so desperate you wind up babbling and pleading for him to let you cum.
‘Please Gale, please, please, don’t stop, please don’t stop. I need it, I need it so badly!’
You feel his laughter vibrate through his body, but finally, mercifully, he acquiesces and you are undone by pleasure, it roars through your body like a furnace, his tongue still maddeningly teasing your clit and you are left almost sobbing on the bed, uncaring of the warm gush between your legs, the air not filling your lungs enough, the world feels dizzy and spectacular and glorious. His head pops up and you can’t help the laugh you let slip at his slightly dazed, but altogether thoroughly pleased expression. 
‘You need to taste yourself,’ he insists, and he kisses you again fiercely, his tongue sliding into your mouth and you do. It’s not a bad taste to your surprise, musky and a little tart, but intoxicating and sweet. Once he’s satisfied he raises his head, though he’s still lying on top of you, he rests his forehead against yours and sighs contentedly. His chin and small beard is soaked through. ‘How was that?’ he asks.
It takes you a moment to clear your throat and find your voice, but more because you’ve been done in, not because you are flustered. ‘Good, very, very good. Thank you.’
‘No, thank you,’ he says, and you let out a breath of laughter that he’s still ever the gentleman. He gets to his feet, grabs an empty basin and a cloth, and comes back to your side. He fills the bowl with warm water using a prestidigitation spell and starts work cleaning you up, tenderly washing you down, though you almost feel a little disappointed you couldn’t keep the slick between your thighs. There’s already a delightful prickling sensation from where his beard rubbed against your legs.
He helps you to your feet, then picks up your skirt, giving it a little shake to remove any dust and holding it open for you to step in. ‘I can manage to dress myself,’ you say.
‘I know, didn’t doubt that, Miss beats-me-soundly-at-alchemy,’ he teases. ‘But I like doing this.’
He brings over your shoes and insists on helping you with those too, having you sit back down on the bed as he puts them on your feet. You have a feeling it might just be because he gets to touch your legs once more.
‘You have the best legs,’ he murmurs. 
You let out a snort of laughter. ‘Given how many you’ve apparently seen, I doubt that!’
But he vehemently shakes his head. ‘I mean it, the best legs in the whole school. If you ever wish for another time I’d be happy to oblige, but I’d quite like it if you sat on my face.’
‘Gale, I’d squish you or break your nose!’ you say.
His eyes gleam at the thought. ‘Well worth the risk!’ He gets to his feet, then offers you a hand and after helping you up, he turns your hand over and presses a kiss to the knuckles. ‘Please come back any time.’
You shiver with delight at the thought, but simply nod and leave the room.
***
Of course Nira wants all the juicy, sordid details and you spend the better part of the evening quietly whispering and giggling in your dormitory room as you recount it. She does seem surprised though when you mention that Gale had asked if he could kiss you.
‘Really? He didn’t ask to kiss me,’ she muses, then gives a shrug. ‘Maybe that’s just something new he does, though I swear Jacanthe was just before you and she didn’t talk about him kissing her. I’ll have to ask her at breakfast.’
It’s an odd, trivial notion you’re sure, but you can’t help the pleased little smile at the thought that maybe, just maybe he had solely wanted to kiss you. But you dismiss it, Gale could have any women at the academy and you know better than to get swept away with the idea that maybe his feelings ran deeper for you than anyone else!
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